Anticipation
by Cyranothe2nd
Summary: I will come for you tonight..." Erik makes a promise, but will Christine find the courage to take what is offered? Part Four of Four posted. Please read and review. One shot follow up, No Backwards Glances, now posted as well.
1. Default Chapter

Hello gentle readers. This fic was intended for my Moments of Transition series but it took another turn and so it had become a stand-alone. But never fear, more MOTs are on the way. And yes, I do intend to continue Instruction to Darkness as well.

As usual, I do not own Erik or Christine. I only wish…

Please R/R…rated R for lemony goodness. Will be in four parts.

Anticipation

_Erik _

I clutched the marble balustrade of the Opera Populaire in my gloved hand, looking down on the sea of masked faces below. I was a fool to come here. But I could not give up the chance to see her, for once, like any normal man. I knew that she was coming because of a secret assignation with her Boy. But I would also be there, to guard and guide her. And perhaps...

_Foolish foolish Erik. _

I heard a hush fall over the revelers and saw with satisfaction that my appearance had not gone unnoticed. I had spend much time on my costume, a representation of the horrifying Red Death. My mask, which covered the horror of my face, was only a painted version of my own visage. But as I stood at the top of the giant marble staircase, _ugly thing, Charles picked it out and wouldn't be swayed_, I felt for the first time safe in a crowd. The stares and murmurs were at the magnificence of my costume, not at the terrible sight of my face. And so I descended the stairs slowly, basking in the unaccustomed sensation of being admired.

A hand reached out of the crowd, plucking at my long red velvet train.

"I say, chap, wherever did you get a costume like this?"

Like lightening my hand reached out and grasped his wrist, twisting cruelly.

"You touch the Red Death at your peril." I hissed.

Just then a murmur rustled through the crowd and I looked up just as _she_ entered the room.

The light lit her from behind, making her white dress glow with an incandescent radiance. Her blond curls wreathed her head, entwined with white roses. A pair of iridescent wings spread from her shoulders, gracefully bending towards her as though she were an angel in repose. All those times that she had called me_ Angel _and now it was she who was celestial.

She seemed to glide as she came towards me. I realized belatedly that I still held the arm of the poor unfortunate that had dared to touch me. I let him go and he backed off, stuttering an apology. Christine closed the space between us and I felt all the air go out of the room. She was lovely, as warm and innocent as spring, and I was cold and dead as winter. I shuddered at the analogy, unable to look at her as she stopped in front of me.

And then, fantastically, she held out a white hand to me.

"Monsieur le Morte Rouge."

We stood in that tableau for a long moment, she with her hand outstretched and me, not realizing what she wanted from me. I stared at her hand for an eternity before I finally recovered myself sufficiently to brush her fingertips with my own.

"Mon Ange." I murmured.

Music seemed to fill the room. The orchestra had begun to play and couples were moving away from us, towards the ballroom.

"May I have this dance?"

My eyes sought hers. A white feather mask covered her features but her eyes, clear and blue, looked back into mine. I took her hand and led her into the ballroom, unable to speak.

_Is it possible that she cannot know who I truly am? Can I perhaps just be any man tonight?_

I pulled her close to my body, letting myself move to the music. The press of her body against mine was the sweetest agony. She swayed in time with the music, her hip twisting so that it brushed tantalizingly against mine, her gloved hand moving gracefully in mine.

"You dance well, Monsieur." She said.

Did I imagine it or was her a voice a bit breathless? I felt lightheaded at her nearness. I could not answer her. I whirled her around the ballroom and happened to look up as we passed the marble balustrade. One face stood out from the crowd; the insipidly handsome face of the Vicomte de Changny. I felt a surge of wicked triumph. It may be his fiancée I held in my arms but it was me she danced with and my music inside her mind. _So it will always be_, I realized, looking down into her face. She may have her boy in the daylight. The night belonged to me.

I pulled her closer, felt her gasp as my hand pressed into the small of her back. Her face, inches from my own, was flushed and her breath came quickly from her parted lips. I stared at those lips like someone in a trance. The music surged around us but I could still hear her whisper my name.

"Erik."

It undid me. I pulled her forward and lowered my head to hers. Her lips were sweet and warm and I do not think I imagined her arms tightening around me, drawing me against her. I was awash in sensation, not caring that we were in the middle of a crowded room or that many of the people here wished me dead. There was only her. I fell into her sweetness as a man long denied and she surrendered to me. Her mouth moved over mine and then opened to my tongue and I could taste her…

Strong hands wrenched me away suddenly. I turned, enraged at this interruption to find the Vicomte de Changny, holding Christine by the arm, his other arm upraised in a fist. Did he truly mean to fight me? The thought was so ludicrous that I threw back my head and laughed. The boy's face went white with fury.

"How dare you Monsieur?" he spat.

My eyes flicked to Christine, who was gasping for breath, her lips swollen from my kiss. Her eyes met mine.

"I took what was freely offered." I spoke the words to her. The boy stared from her to me, the look on his face one of dawning comprehension. He had not known who I was when he tore me away from her, but now he was beginning to suspect. He stepped forward, both hands up now. I smiled coolly at him, my hand going to the secret pocket of my cloak. This was a game he could not hope to win.

Christine cried out. "No, Raoul!" She tugged at his arm. He shook her off, advancing on me. I stood, silently waiting. Only a few steps closer…

"Raoul!" Christine thrust herself in between us. "No!" She shouted, near hysteria. The boy was beyond fury. He would not listen. She turned to me. "Please Erik. Please."

I would have liked nothing better than to kill the boy. But she had asked and I could deny her nothing. I stepped closer to whisper in her ear.

"Tomorrow night I will come for you." I felt her shiver at the promise in my voice before I turned. I allowed myself to turn back to her once more, to take in the blush staining her cheeks and the way her eyes had darkened in desire. _Tomorrow_, I promised myself. And with a flash of flame I disappeared.


	2. Chapter Two

I know this is a short chapter, but compared to my usual one-shots it's downright LONG! Please R/R. Happy reading.

Christine 

Raoul took me home straight away. He did not speak to me, and I was grateful for that. I could not face his questions tonight. I knew that I had behaved like a wanton. I had asked another man to dance. I had stood in the circle of his arms; I had let him pull me close, I had allowed him to kiss me.

Why had I asked Erik to dance? Oh yes, I had known immediately that it was he. No one else could move with such quiet grace or power. Music seemed to surround him, even when he was silent. I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. I could not resist the temptation that was implicit in his eyes every time he looked at me. And so I had offered my hand to him.

Foolish foolish Christine! 

_Tomorrow night_, his voice had promised. I had invited him to touch me. Could I now complain that he exercised that invitation? That he took me in his arms and awakened feelings in me that made me blush in memory? That his lips on mine had swamped my senses and made me weak?

I was frightened and excited at once. I did not know…I had never thought…but no, that was not true. Erik was in essence a sensual creature and even my innocence could not completely shield me from that. There were times when we sang together that I imagined his voice caressing me… his lips… his hands. I often awoke from fevered dreams of him, my body feeling swollen and bereft. Even now, as I stripped off my costume I imagined him standing on the other side of the mirror, watching. I slowed my movements, stripping off one garment at a time, imagining his arms around me and his mouth slanting over mine over and over again until at last I stood naked and trembling.

I faced the mirror and lifted my chin, half hoping that he could see me and half shocked at my behavior.

I traced my fingers over my body, imagining they were his.

"Erik." I murmured in a voice I barely recognized.

I could hear his whispering voice in my head, commanding and promising me knowledge and pleasure.

"Close your eyes and go to the bed." Said the voice in my head. I obeyed wordlessly.

"Touch yourself, Christine. Imagine I am there." The voice was low and breathless. And I succumbed to the memory of his kiss and my own questing fingers. My hands went to my breasts and I drew circles over my nipples, imagining his hot mouth suckling me. A strange languor was filling my body. My skin felt taut with anticipation.

"Now, move your hands lower." I snaked one hands to the curls between my legs. "Imagine my mouth_ there_, sucking on you _there_." He said. His voice was magic. My fingers moved of their own volition, slick with the wet from my own body. My breath was coming in ragged gasps now.

"Put your fingers inside yourself Christine."

I shamelessly plunged my fingers into the cleft between my legs, rising to meet each thrust. I imagined him over me, inside of me. My hips bucked wildly. One last plunge of my fingers sent me over the edge and I sobbed out his name as a wave of ecstasy broke over me.

"That's my girl." His deep voice caressed me as I turned over, exhausted. His voice sang me to sleep.

It was not until the next morning that I realized that the ring Raoul had given me was gone.


	3. Chapter Three

_Erik _

There would be no sleep for me this night.

My mind and body had betrayed me completely. After nearly forty years of ruthlessly quashed desire every muscle and nerve was in rebellion. I had kissed her, held her in my arms; and her soft gasp and surrendering mouth told me I could have done more, so much more…

I stood behind the mirror in her dressing room and waited breathlessly for her to return. I knew it was foolish to seek her out and yet I had an almost visceral need to see her, to make sure that she was_ really _mine. I had taken the Boy's ring from around her neck as we danced but I had not replaced it with my own. Her heated response to my kiss had proven that her body knew it was mine. But her heart still believed in her shining white Viscount.

I considered this as I saw her enter the room. Her Boy stood at the door but said nothing. His very silence spoke volumes, as did hers. He reached out for her hand but she did not see it. She moved to stand behind the door. There was a flash of hurt in his eyes and I suppressed a gleeful laugh.

"Goodnight." Christine said perfunctorily and closed the door, seeming eager to be alone. But then she stood, staring off into space for a long time. Was she thinking of me? Did the memory of our kiss draw that rosy blush to her cheeks? Her eyes rose to the mirror and I could see her wondering if I was behind it even now, watching her. Her hands went to the front of her costume. She loosened the buckles that held the iridescent wings in place and shrugged them off, setting them on her dressing table. The crown of roses came off next as she slowly unpinned her hair, letting the blond length fall down her back and combing through it with her fingers. The long waves curled softly around her face and caressed her breasts like a lover. Her eyes once more strayed to the mirror and the pink tinge in her cheeks was back. She reached for the fastenings on her bodice and slowly untied it, her eyes never leaving the mirror.

_What is she playing at?_ I wondered.

Christine pushed the gold-shot garment off her shoulders, letting her fingertips glide over her collarbone and down her arms as she shrugged it off. I followed her hands with my hungry gaze. I had never done this; I had never watched her undress. I always turned away in deference to her innocence, but tonight her movements were slow and languorous. She was seducing me with her hands. She unbuttoned the skirt next and pushed it over her hips, letting the white silk pool at her feet before she stepped out of it. She drew in a long shuddering breath as she unfastened her corset and let that too drop to the floor. Finally she stood before me in nothing but her thin lawn chemise. My cock hardened as I saw her body outlined under the gauzy cloth. Did she know what she was doing to me? Her eyes were still on the mirror, daring me to watch her. Her hand went to the loose knot at her throat and untied it. The collar of her chemise opened, slipped past her shoulders and slithering over her body and onto the floor.

I feasted my eyes on her naked flesh. Her breasts were high and full, her stomach flat and her arms and legs lithely muscled from years of dancing. Her skin was creamy white, whiter than the silk at her feet and I knew it was softer as well. Her fingers trailed up her body to her breasts, tracing little circled on her nipples until they jutted out, taut and expectant.

"Erik." She murmured. For the second time that night her voice speaking my name unraveled me.

"Christine." I whispered to her. "Let me show you what to do. Let me teach you."

I ordered her to lie on the bed. She obeyed immediately, closer her eyes as her hands skimmed over her body, teasing her nipples torturously. My own body surged in response and I flung back my cloak and ran my hands over my hard length. I freed myself from the constraint of clothing and closed my hand over my cock, running my fingers down the throbbing length.

"Now move your hands lower." I ordered her. I could see her hips rising in response to the movement of her fingers. I matched the rhythm of my hand to hers. I was close, so close…my hand was moving faster and faster, plunging me into a tightening spiral of pleasure.

"Put your fingers inside yourself Christine." I said raggedly. She did so and the sight of her gratifying herself was overwhelming. I couldn't move, couldn't breath, couldn't do anything but watch her as her back arched and she came, crying out my name. I was right behind her, pleasure overtaking me. I gasped out her name but I was sure she did not hear me over her own moan. I sat for a long while, shaking as little shivers of sensation ran through me. My desire had abated but not disappeared. I longed to cross the barrier that separated us, to take her into my arms and show her what pleasure mouth and hands could give. But I had promised her tomorrow night and she deserved the time in between to decide, to be sure that she really wanted me.

And so I stood and straightened my clothes, making my way slowly back to my cold house. I shucked off my clothes and left them on the floor, falling into bed. And for the first time in years I slept peacefully.


	4. Chapter Four

Christine 

I had spent the whole day teetering between unbearable anticipation and terrific guilt. The empty space above where breasts where Raoul's ring had hung mocked me. My fingers were used to flying to it a thousand times a day, as thought it were some holy talisman, as though Raoul's name could protect me from shadows. Only now I was stripped bare of succor, naked by the darkness inside of myself and the need for Erik's touch. I could not set my mind to anything. I spent the entire day flittering from one thing to the next, all the while a syllibant voice whispered in my head, "…I will come for you."

And when he came there was no choice. His voice sang from behind my mirror, "_Night has come_…" Faust's words and my soul thrilled to hear them.

I immediately answered with Marguerite's voice, "_Oh silence, oh happiness, oh ineffable mystery! I am listening_…"

The mirror slid back as his voice joined mine, "_I know this solitary voice which sings, which sings into my heart_…"

I went with him willingly, stepping over the threshold of my mirror into the dark world beyond.

I was immediately plunged into darkness. Erik took my hand and began to lead me through the inky blackness of the cellars. I stumbled along, brushing one hand against the stone-damp walls. There was not a sound but the whisper of my own feet moving along the rough stones and the drip-drip-drip of water growing louder as we neared the lake. Erik's feet made no noise as he guided me down that labyrinthine maze. He did not speak to me, or sing. If it were not for the warmth of his gloved hand in mine I would have thought a ghost was leading me. And still down, down we went until I felt him stop and then he was lifting me into the boat and I could hear the sound of water splashing on oars as we pushed off.

I looked around, my eyes straining against the darkness even as my ears heard every small sound in the stillness. The waves lapping along the hull, the creak of the oars, the whisper of movement as Erik rowed, and the boat finally bumping against the dock on the other side, all were deafening. I felt the boat rock as Erik stood and lifted me out and I waited for him to take my hand again. Instead I felt his hands brush against my hair and then something dropped in front of my eyes. I immediately lifted my hand to feel a silk kerchief tied around my head like a blindfold. I made to remove it but Erik's hands grasped mine and brought them back down to my sides in a gesture that clearly said "No.".

I could tell the moment I entered his house by the change of textures under my feet, soft carpet instead of rough stone. I could hear the crackling of the fire and smell the heady fragrance of cinnamon and roses. The vividness of the scent opened my senses and I gasped as Erik's hands came down on my shoulders. He pulled me into him, my back to his front, and spoke close to my ear.

"I find, Christine, that the absence of one sense will heighten all of the others." And as he said this one hand moved from my shoulder to trace the line of my jaw and down the length of my neck. The sudden richness of his voice, combined with that light caress, set my whole body trembling. I could hear him chuckle low in his throat before he released me. There was a whisper of cloth moving against skin. I waited, my whole body taut, for him to touch me again. But he did not. I could feel him moving to stand in front of me, could feel his eyes on me as my hands went to the fastenings at the front of my gown. One by one I undid the long row of buttons. I had left off wearing a corset or chemise and I could hear the gentle susurration of Erik's breath quicken as each inch of my flesh was revealed. Finally I could feel his trembling fingers batting away my own and his nimble fingers parted the fabric easily; pushing it off my shoulders and letting it tumble to the ground.

I heard his breath catch as he looked at me. I stretched out my hands until they met the silk of his shirt. I sighed at the feel of him, the reality and solidity of him. I ran my hands up his chest, fanning out my fingers to feel the bare flesh at his collar, his neck…The mask was jarring and I lifted it off and tossed it aside, letting my fingers skim the flesh of his face, learning the tortured lines, before descending again to that patch of skin above his collar. I wondered how it would taste and stepping into him, pressing my body along the length of his as my lips brushed the crisp hairs at his neckline. I heard him groan and I reveled in my power over him.

Being blind was strangely freeing; I did not have to see myself reflected in his eyes and so I was free to act without restraint. It was my hands that undressed him, my lips that moved over his, my tongue that first gained entrance to his mouth. I explored his mouth with abandon, delighting in the way his arms tightened around me and the low growl that came from his throat when I swiveled my hips just like _that_.

Erik groaned again and tore his mouth from mine. "_Eternal night of love! Radiant sky, O sweet flames!_" He sang the lines breathlessly as he led me into my room. I felt the back of the bed against my legs as he bore me down. "_Silent happiness pours the heavens into our souls_!"

And then he was pushing inside me. There was a pinprick of pain and I cried out. His arms held me tightly, his whole body shaking as he waited for the pain to subside. Then he moved again and I felt lost.

"_Love, that brings us a passion always new_!" I gasped against his lips, "_To intoxicate us endlessly_…"

My hips rose to meet his in a song older than time and I felt myself burning, building to a crescendo.

Erik's voice was beyond singing and he could only breath the words into my ear, "_Oh silence, oh happiness, oh ineffable mystery_!"

I felt out of control, floating, flying, and shaking with ecstasy as Erik's name rent my throat. And then the world spun away.

I fell asleep that night tucked into Erik's arms, his chin on my shoulder, his breath tickling my ear. There would be time enough for second thoughts and self-recrimination later. For now, I contented myself to relax into his warmth and go to sleep.

FIN

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A/N: Well gentle readers, that is the end of Anticipation. I am sorry it took me so long to deliver this last chapter but I hope you will be pleased to hear that there is a sequel, a one-shot entitled "No Backward Glances" that will be up sometime next week.

All the lyrics sung in this piece are from Gounod's _Faust_.

Now the sad news… my story, "Instruction to Darkness", is going away for a while. I am deeply sorry to all of those who read and reviewed it. The plot that I had originally planned was used by another author, and more beautifully than I could have ever created it (if you have not read Stitchgirl's truly amazing "Temperance" then shame on you!).

Never fear, dear readers, for where Cyrano taketh away she also giveth back. Behold! Perpetual Phantom is coming out of retirement! After some much needed polishing the story is back and, I hope, better than ever. You will all see it some time late next week. Please, all of you who are shaking your fists over the loss of ITD, give PP a chance. I promise you won't regret it.

Thank you to all who read and review. I am truly honored that you like my fic.


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